


When I look at you...

by Angelscythe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelscythe/pseuds/Angelscythe
Summary: Since the second his eyes landed on Sylvain, Miklan hated him. He hated him so much... He just wanted to crush him into pieces.One day, as he came for another of his vendetta, the anger encounter his father behavior with Sylvain. And he just knows how to end this once for all.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Miklan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39
Collections: FE3H Siblings Week





	When I look at you...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is another of my 'I wanted to make it longer but I never managed to pursue it so have it as an OS'  
> When it cames in my mind, I loved the concept so much and I still want to do more of it but... ah!  
> Please, enjoy!!!  
> Also, sorry for my bad english, with my dislexia and english not being my first language, I'm doing my best!!
> 
> Also, stay inside, be cautious, wash your hands, stay hydrated and seek for happiness!! It's somewhere, but sometimes not where you believe it!!  
> Love you!!!

The very first time he saw him… he hated him. With all his core.

That rat.

Him who came in life with a Crest, with every rights. He was only two seconds-born when his father already promised him a big house, the grounds of Gautier, every treasure of the family. And the Lance of Ruin, of course. And him? Him nothing. He always had known it but his father was acting like he never got a son before.

He was only talking about Sylvain José Gautier.

Only thinking about Sylvain José Gautier.

It helped, to be honest, because he could take the big Mansion his big brother was occupying until now.

Now, the Gautier’s grounds didn’t need a Stewart anymore and because he had a bearer of the Crest, he could pretend to be the ruler he always dreamed to be.

So yes, Miklan hated his brother.

He hated him so much and had wanted him to die. He had let him fall so often that he wasn’t allowed to hold him in his arms. He had provoked an accident the first time Sylvain went on a pony so he couldn’t approach him when Sylvain was training.

He wasn’t even allowed to his birthday, a few weeks ago.

He couldn’t blame his parents to push him back. He couldn’t blame this little boy neither… and yet, he was doing it.

Blaming a little boy…

Today, he had the best idea to get rid of him. There was an abandoned well in the garden. He would grab his brother and would throw him in. He would die there and it would be over. Not only his mother and father will stop seeing him and only him but his father will also lost everything. And he loved to see him doomed after the disdain he showed him. He couldn’t be the Steward, being too young. He would be thrown back to his misery.

They would all suffer together, at least…

He loved the idea of seeing them suffer again.

Miklan entered the living room where Sylvain was playing the last time he saw him. He had received a pretty bunny from Felix Hugo Fraldarius and he always got the stuffed animal with him. Glenn said his brother had just thrown away the bunny but it meant the world to Sylvain.

The little heir was there, sit on the floor.

But he wasn’t playing with his bunny.

“Sylvain, give me that.”

Miklan watched as his father talked to Sylvain. Talked? There was so much anger in his voice.

Sylvain shook his head.

“Give it to me.”

“No!”

“This thing is disgusting, it belongs to the trash!”

Not surprising it was disgusting. Sylvain really had it all the time with him. For eating or pony training. The bunny had been repaired a few times by the servants and also washed but Sylvain cried as soon they removed it from him and with time, the servants believed you couldn’t save it anymore.

The Margrave lied down and grabbed the bunny. Sylvain yelled, grabbing it with all his little strength. The man was stronger. But it didn’t prevent Sylvain to do his best.

A crack echoed in the room. Little feathers rained as the arm of the rabbit stayed in Sylvain’s hand but the other part in his father’s.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Sylvain yelled.

His eyes were filled with tears.

It didn’t wait long before he started crying.

 _Slap_.

“Will you stop?!”

Sylvain hiccupped, his cheek so red suddenly. He stopped crying. One second. Then he cried even more.

“I told you to stop!” the man said, grabbing him by the fluffy red hair.

As he did, lifting the child who could only cry more, Miklan’s eyes widened.

Not to that horror itself but because… he brushed his face. Where there was a very hurtful wound that didn’t heal well. Two weeks ago, the man had taken his hair exactly in the same way. And his lance had entered his flesh.

Blood was everywhere.

The wound still hurt him, the flesh was so fresh. In his mind and in his body.

His heart was throbbing and he stepped aside, pressing his back against the wall. He couldn’t stop seeing it. His father hadn’t made this because he deserved it, having attacked Sylvain again. No… He had replied. Because his father refused to send him to Garreg Mach. Why would he form him when he was Crestless?

He had yelled. His father had hated it…

This scar on his face, destroying it, was the worst he had received. Because he didn’t comply…

He had received harsh punishment for attacking Sylvain but being forced to be in his room for days because he had pushed Sylvain in the stairs seemed normal. He couldn’t blame them. Damn! He couldn’t blame Sylvain.

He stayed there.

He heard the slap, the hit, the cries…

After a moment, there were no more cries. And the blows died too.

Silence calm.

Dreadful.

You could hear a fly. You could hear the Margrave leaving the room. He didn’t even notice Miklan, pressed against the wall.

He watched as his father left.

And then, he entered the room.

Sylvain was still crying. But it was silent.

The pieces of the bunny were on the floor. He didn’t even dare approaching them.

Miklan moved toward them, grabbing the body then the lost paw. Sylvain followed his gesture with his brown eyes. They looked dead…

“You want that?” Miklan asked, showing the plush.

Sylvain nodded.

“Come,” the older invited.

The little boy hesitated. He watched toward the door. Will his father come back and hit him?

“He is dead…” he said under his breath.

His little finger showed the plush.

“I will make it alive again. Come.”

He moved his other hand. Sylvain’s hand twitched but took it. He needed his bunny. It has the smell of Felix… Well, no. With time, it has the smell of everything _but_ Felix. But his little brain was convinced it was Felix’s smell…

He took the hand.

And received the bunny.

Miklan, holding his hand, lifted him.

The little redhead in his arms, he left the house to go on the garden. He was sure, servants had noticed him. Some of them just didn’t care. As long as they were paid, if they have one child, two or another family to take care, it was fine. Some would react if they weren’t afraid to not have finished their work in time. And those who would truly care no matter what, hadn’t seen it. One or two, though… thought it was better like that, whatever Miklan was planning.

And Miklan walked toward the old well on the garden.

It was lost among bushes, a bit of beautiful trees. Bad herbs climbing all around. The garden was so big that most of people just didn’t care of taking care of it. You couldn’t see anything from the windows or the terrace anyway.

Miklan moved to the old well. Ivy was running around it, embracing it lovingly.

The old Gautier glanced at it.

Sylvain was looking the part of the bunny in his little arms. He was shivering.

“Don’t worry, Sylvain. Soon, it would be over,” Miklan said.

He threw his heel in the rotten boards of wood covering the well. The sound of them falling in the water made Sylvain hiccup.

Miklan moved his hand. A groan and little red hairs, then blood, fell on the edge of the well.

“Miklan…” Sylvain whined.

His eyes weren’t dead anymore, filling with sadness but also fear.

“It’s almost over. The old coot won’t touch you anymore. Won’t touch us anymore…”

He pressed him against his chest. If he could show affection, he would kiss him tenderly on his forehead. But there… he didn’t know what to do. He patted his back and moved to the vegetation, entering it and disappearing.

And he would never come back here…

Two ideas were fighting within him.

Miklan started to believe he had made a mistake. His legs were hurting him because he was walking since so long? He couldn’t stop walking because he didn’t know when his father will start running after him. He even ran by moment. He just needed to go away… Soon, he would reach a town. And what will he do? He left like that, without thinking, without even one piece of gold… What could he do? He had to go somewhere.

But he was sure he was doing the right thing as well. He couldn’t have left Sylvain there. He was used to be mistreated by his father, dismissed, denied… Let alone for hours, beaten because he wasn’t acting like he had to but… he was Crestless. He was nothing to his father eyes. Sylvain was different. Sylvain was the child he always dreamed of. He always acted with him like a was greater, better than the Prince itself. Than the King! So… when he saw what he did to him… He knew it wasn’t because he was useless. It was in the character of the man. It would never stop…

But now, what should he do?

Sylvain was sleeping in his arms. His limbs were hurting him so much…

He didn’t know where to go. First, he wanted to leave the grounds of Gautier. It was the best to do, he knew it. At very first, he started to walk toward the Fraldarius’ Dukedom but Rodrigue was so friend with his father. What if he couldn’t understand and send him back there? What if he believed it was better for him to go back home?

He just couldn’t take the risk.

He had nothing with him.

Not even a weapon to hunt a little. He couldn’t do it with his bare hands…

Perhaps he could _make_ it totally.

Perhaps.

Yes! He had to do it. He could create their house too!

When you were just a Crestless son, that you had to take care of yourself by your own, especially since you were eleven years old, there some things you learnt. When Rodrigue helped Glenn to make a hut in the garden, his father always refused to help him. He certainly won’t be able to do anything prodigious but it would be enough for two… He needed to make a fire… For tonight, since he had to hunt, he would just find a cozy place.

After… He will have to find how to create something correct for his brother.

Could he only take care of him? He was really doubtful about it…

He had wanted to kill him for five years. And now, he wanted to keep him alive?

It was so different…

Could he?

And… damn, he was only sixteen years old?

Without money. Without anything.

How could he…

Miklan walked in the wood. Sylvain moved in his arms. What he had to do? Some of his instincts were still yelling at him ‘throw him behind a trunk’. But he couldn’t. Sylvain wasn’t what he believed. He wasn’t the threat he thought he was. What will change with Sylvain being alive? When he saw Sylvain being beaten that way, he couldn’t help think ‘is the grounds and recognition the only difference’? Was it what he wanted?

No.

He wanted love, care… a hug once in a while?

He believed Sylvain had all of that…

He was wrong.

And now….

Miklan moved through the trees. He searched after somewhere they could go. A burrow? An old tree with a hole inside? Something under the roofing of the leaves.

As he walked, he noticed a huge pothole, probably made by a big animal. He hoped this one had disappeared and wouldn’t attack the night. Perhaps he would keep an eye open. This place was the best he had found. The foliage was heavy enough to protect them from rain or snow, and they were sheltered against the very cold wind. He could easily make a fire and be sure it would stay, thanks to the little wall created by the hole.

He laid Sylvain in and straightened to go get a bit of little wood. He needed some branch. And perhaps sharp stone. He needed to find some…

He looked at his little brother then went deeper in the wood.

Wakening up, Sylvain yawned and pressed his bunny in his arms. The second part was in his trouser pocket. He didn’t want to lose it. He wanted the bunny to be whole. Rubbing his eyes, yawning again, the little boy looked around. It was very dark around…

The fear climbed in him immediately.

So fast.

He screamed out.

Not a name.

Who could he call? His mother wasn’t allowed to approach him despite the love she had for him, and Miklan; his father would never come save him, he would more likely hit him because he was doing too much noise. And Miklan… Miklan had abandoned him…

It was his plan since the beginning?

Perhaps.

Miklan hated him.

Why?

What did he have done wrong? He had tried to play with him. He wanted Miklan to care for him like Glenn cared for his brother. Like Glenn cared for him. Glenn would hug him, rock him softly and ease him. He remembered telling him so many things and Glenn being just there…

He wanted Glenn as a brother.

He could yell his name…

Sylvain kept yelling, hugging his bunny, tears streaming along his rounds cheeks. The birds were flying away, even some animals like squirrels, were too running from this unbearable sound. Them who were used to the silent and just had to worry about predators…

Something grabbed Sylvain.

He cried even more.

Sylvain could have begged but begged what?

He cried even more but… went silent, in fact.

“Sylvain? What’s happening?”

Sylvain’s brown years opened. Through the veil of tears, he noticed a very bright red mane.

“Miklan?” he hiccupped.

“Yes. What’s happening?”

He looked a bit annoyed but also genuinely concerned. Or… it looked like it?

“I… I am alone and…”

“I had to,” Miklan said. “And I will have to again. I need to hunt if you want to eat.”

Miklan put him down in the hole and crouched to prepare a fire. He knew how to do. He was so used to do everything together. And when you could be abandoned for days in a forest with your father not caring, it was things you learnt. He owned it to experiment, when it was so cold and he thought he would die.

“Hunt…”

Sylvain watched his brother as he was preparing the fire. Sparkles appeared in the darkness.

“Can you… not hunt bunny?” Sylvain asked with a little voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned.

Dear Sothis, he hated him.

Could he stop being annoying?

The fire suddenly started.

Perfect.

His lance was prepared…

“Stay close to the fire. No beast would attack you and be quiet.”

“Alright…”

Sylvain pressed his nose with his hands. He watched Miklan as this one got up and moved away. He had a lance in his hand, created with a long branch and holding a sharp rock thanks to leaves.

It wouldn’t be useful longtime.

Enough for now.

He got up and moved away, going deeper in the wood. He hated Sylvain. If he could have caught a rabbit, to would be easier. He knew how to set trap for them. It was way easier than you thought. Especially when you knew what kind of bait worked well on them.

What if he just decided to hunt bunnies anyway?

He wouldn’t say it to Sylvain and that was all. He didn’t need to be honest with him. He was already doing enough by keeping him alive and protecting him from their father. He couldn’t expect to be served as a Prince!

Not with him!

But…

Wasn’t it how his father would react?

In fact… He rubbed his scar with a groan. He wondered… when Sylvain asked him not to hunt rabbit, he was afraid.

He kept moving. Going deeper in the wood, searching while the visibility turned worse. He had the feeling that tiny eyes were turning toward him. He knew they were looking him… the bugs, the birds, the deer perhaps?

And… a sound.

The ground being rummaged.

Miklan wrinkled his eyes.

The sounds.

He knew those sounds.

He moved toward it, a smile on his lips. He approached, slowly.

In this case of situation, a wild animal would run away. Unless they were used to be hunted down. Then, they would fight back.

The sounds of the animal.

He was used to be hunted down.

He lived a life where he had to run away, to attack. Lot of Humans got his kind… he got lot of them in their turn.

He rubbed his paw on the ground. He dashed toward Miklan, his tusks ready to open his flesh. Miklan smirked. He raised his lance, welcoming his charge. The beast hit him violently. His spear broke. The Gautier hiccupped under the pressure. He could feel the tusk rubbing against his stomach, trying to dig through his flesh.

His lips turned into a colder smile.

“Sorry. My brother needs to eat,” he said.

The blood was streaming.

Miklan moved away, blood on his hand, blood on his belly. And the boar falling on the floor, losing his life.

The man grabbed him by the tusk and threw it on his shoulders.

The lance wasn’t really good but Miklan knew what he was doing. It had been easy to place the edge just on the right place for the stone to rip open the heart of the beast.

Now, he was just walking back to the camp. He would remove meat for him and Sylvain, put them in the fire.

He had already cooked meal but… he wasn’t very good at it. Most of the time, he just made it extra bloody and swallowed it down.

That was all.

Sylvain was just waiting in the hole.

When Miklan arrived, he smiled just a little. He was still so afraid. But he was also glad to see him coming back. He was always so afraid he would abandon him. Why wouldn’t he? Put him in confidence so he could leave him there.

Miklan, on the other hand, was glad he hadn’t moved. And also afraid. Because he hadn’t moved at all.

Not a little centimeter away…

“Eh…” Miklan approached and threw the boar on the floor. He removed the stone from the beast’s thorax to take bit of meat. “Why don’t you want to eat bunny?”

“They’re my favorite animals…”

Sylvain looked down.

“Tell me: why were you afraid to ask?”

Why did he dare to ask if he was so afraid?

“When I said to father bunnies were my favorite…” He pressed the plush against his chest. “… same night, we had bunny to eat. And father said I had to. I could only go play if the bunny was eaten.”

Where was he that day? He didn’t remember.

Miklan sat next to him with two bit of meal.

“Okay. We won’t eat bunny,” he said. “Never.”

“Thank you!”

Sylvain jumped in his arms, thanking him with a big smile.

Miklan’s eyes widened and he blinked.

He moved his arm and hugged him softly.

Damn… this idiot was cute…


End file.
